


i fall to pieces when i'm with you

by myladybrienne



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-09-30 18:37:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20451731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myladybrienne/pseuds/myladybrienne
Summary: canon to joffrey's death, diverges there. brienne stays in king's landing. her and cersei are forced into one another's lives.





	1. Chapter 1

Brienne wondered where the Boy King got his evil streak. Ser Jaime had nothing of the like within him, she was certain, and his mother was far too practical to be so easily distracted by notions of cruelty. As he teased the poor Imp, he didn’t seem a Lannister at all.

“My uncle hasn’t eaten his pigeon pie.” She watched Queen Margaery blush with the faintest shame at her new husband’s antics. “It’s ill luck not to eat the pie,” Joffrey insisted as he stuffed his mouth. “See, it’s good!” He choked as he reached for another handful. “Dry, needs washing down.” He swallowed down the wine and coughed again, more coarsely now. “I want to see you ride that pig, Uncle. I want-” He had struggled his way through the first sentence only to fail in spluttering out another.

His lady wife stood at his side, worry furrowing her brow. “Your Grace?”

Brienne’s eyes flitted in concern to Ser Jaime first, watched the ornamental hand on the pommel of his sword flex. There was something in his eyes that she hadn’t seen before, something she never thought she ever _would _see from a man so composed.

“He’s choking,” Queen Margaery proclaimed.

Her grandmother called out. “Help the poor boy!”   
  
Brienne watched the scene play out curiously, with such an intensity that she was unsure of what was really happening. She watched as the boy started to struggle, as he fell to the ground and retched desperately.

At his side, Jaime looked twice his normal size. A man next to a boy, and a measly boy at that. He hung over the younger boy as he squirmed and tried, quite hopelessly, to help. His shouts were swallowed into the clamour of people from their tables for a better view in a way that his sisters’ could not be.

The terror that overcame Queen Cersei was unfamiliar. She wasn’t frightened as a girl might be; Brienne had seen that fear a thousand times and felt it on occasion, this was not that. It was the terror of a _mother, _she suspected.

Collapsed over her oldest boy’s struggling form, she held a fearful composure that set Brienne on edge. There was panic in her eyes and in the urgent rise and fall of her chest with each gasping breath, but it was contained within her in a fashion that threatened to explode.

_Jaime. _Brienne thought. It was hard to figure out what he was thinking behind the gold-plate armour that he had strapped on for the first time in months. This Jaime was not her familiar, he was not so easy to read as the man she had shared each waking moment with for weeks on end.

The Boy King had taken his last. He had clung to it most determinedly, but he had lost that battle all the same.

A hundred strangers watched as the King choked to death right in front of their eyes. Brienne wished she were among them. She wished she was a stranger with no notion of these poor souls, but she had been made familiar with them.

_The poor Queen, _she thought, and in her mind, she couldn’t decide whether she had meant Margaery or Cersei. It was hard to believe that a boy so young could be snatched so easily. The old songs say a man is made younger by a crown, but in fact, his life is only made shorter.

“He did this.” The tears on Cersei Lannister’s face were fresh and dewy as she bit out the vicious words and Brienne could barely hear her for the whispers that erupted. “He poisoned my son, your King. Take him. Take him!”

Dogs were barking and children were wailing in the chaos as two armoured Kingsguard carried off the Imp. Cersei’s yells got louder and railed coarsely against the deafening murmur.

_I wish I had not come, _Brienne thought. She prayed to the Gods that this was all some dreadful fiction of her mind. It would be a thought nothing shy of treason, but it would be better still than this.

People were being led out. Nobody was held but Lord Tyrion. There was no sense in gathering suspects when a certain culprit has been caught. Already, Brienne could hear the clamour of lies as they spilled from careless mouths. It sickened her how quickly people made gossip of tragedy.

“Wait,” she called and shoved against the flow of people. “Ser Jaime!”

He looked half furious, half heartbroken as his head snapped up to look at her. Limp against his bastard son’s shoulder laid his golden hand and Brienne wondered if he didn’t resent it. 

“Lady Brienne,” he stammered.” You should go. I’m sure you need some rest after such an ordeal.”

The blood and bile didn’t faze her. What did faze her however, was the way it was seeping into the rich fabrics of the Queen’s gown. She will want her brother’s counsel. Brienne was certain that she would be in wont of a more familiar kind of comfort once she left them.

“Of course, Ser,” she answered with an uncharacteristic shyness. “I only came to say that should you need anything at all, I’m happy to be of service.”

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Queen Cersei’s posture tighten and all she could hope for was that she might keep her false assumptions to herself until Brienne could leave the city.

“To _all _of you, Your Grace,” Brienne insisted somewhat weakly.

_Please Gods, let her want naught of me. For I couldn’t deny her any request but Godswilling she will make none of me, nor he. _


	2. Chapter 2

Her chambers were modest, but all she knew for certain was that they far exceeded the welcome she had expected to the capital. The royal household had been kind to her for reasons she was, at present, wary of.

Their location, deep in the heart of the castle, meant that any attempts to leave under cover of night would go challenged by the guards that patrolled the halls. She had no intention to _escape _per se; Ser Jaime knew she had intended to leave, and he had assured her that when the right moment came, he would help her.

All she feared was that the right moment would not come soon enough for her.

A knock at her door drew her up from her chair.

“Lady Brienne,” a voice called from the other side, a voice she immediately recognised as Ser Jaime’s. “Lady Brienne?”

Brienne pulled open in the door with a furrowed brow and took note firstly of the high colour in his cheeks, as though he had been running.

It was hard to pick out one thing at a time to observe when he had changed so entirely in just a matter of days. When they arrived in King’s Landing, he was certainly a little cleaner than when she’d first met him, but he was still a little dusty and his hair still hung scruffily around his face. That was Ser Jaime as she had known him, but _this_was the Lion of Lannister in his golden glory.

“Ser Jaime, is there something you need?”

“May I come in?” he asked, nudging past her and entering without waiting for a response. “Close the door.”   
  
Curious and obedient, she shut the door gently and turned to face him. _Let it be time for me to leave the city, _she pleaded to the Gods.

“You need to go,” Jaime told her in a determined tone. “As soon as possible. I fear you’re in danger of never getting out of the city if you don’t go soon.”

The castle walls had ears, Brienne knew for a fact, and the whispers would get back to Queen Cersei quicker than the wind could chase them. It only told her of the unimagined urgency with which she had to act.  
  
“Has something changed? There was no urgency before. Do you fear that the death of the King might hold me here somehow?” Ser Jaime visibly flinched at the mention of it and guilt took her for a moment. His eldest son was dead and he was helping her instead of grieving the boy, there was an honour in him that could only be described as self-destructive and she envied it in some strange way.

“Your antics this afternoon at the feast might hold you here forever. My sister took interest in you the moment you stepped foot in her city and now, you’ve given her reason to keep you here, worse than that, you’ve given her some essence of permission. She’ll wrap a leash around your neck and keep you at heel until this war is won and the Starks you love so dearly are all dead.”   
  
Dressed in Lannister garbs, with a belly full of Lannister food and a skin of Lannister wine strapped to his side, it was remarkable to see the _real _Jaime Lannister so well disguised.   
  
“I can leave right now if you’ve a horse to give me,” Brienne said with absolute confidence.  
  
There was a look that fell upon Jaime’s face and all it did was worry Brienne. _It isn’t going to be that straightforward, _she accepted without any great loss of hope. To come to her like this, he must have constructed some sort of a plan. The thoughtless expression in his eyes didn’t flicker as he watched her realise that he had come to her in desperation.

“The patrols around the castle, around the inner city, especially at the gates, they’ve all been increased tenfold since Joffrey’s death. You’re going to have to wait for the funeral, everyone will be surrounding the sept, and every single member of the city guard will be there too. It’s your only chance I fear, you’re going to have to wait, and you’re going to have to keep your head low, for Gods’ sake!”

Brienne didn’t realise what a few simple words could do. She played with swords, the games that people played at court were not to her taste. There is no spectating in the game of thrones, there is only choosing a side and hiding behind the person you think wields their words most cleverly.

“I’ll stay out of the Queen’s way. I expect it will be easier now, she’ll likely stay to her private quarters until the funeral is done. I seldom cross paths with queens, Ser Jaime, as you well know.” It seemed an easy promise to make but she had learned more than once that staying out of Queen Cersei’s way was entirely dependent on what _she _wanted,_you_rarely entered the equation at all.

The look slid from his face and in place of it was his trademark Lannister smirk, snide and obnoxiously sweet. He left as he had come: quiet as a prowling cat.

In her quarters, she wondered where she would go after she left. Lady Sansa’s disappearance had gone unnoticed for hours following the King’s death. She could have gone anywhere,and Brienne was fearful to set enemies on the right path.

Perhaps leaving at the current moment, with the Stark girl in such dire straits, was not the best option. It was now or never, though, and Brienne could not bear to be trapped in the lion’s den with no clue of where the girl would go. There was no choice for her but to go.


	3. Chapter 3

She had not left her chambers since the wedding feast, Jaime realised. Their father had come to speak with her, and she had sent him away. The only ones she would see were Tommen, and reluctantly, him.

“Jaime, what do you want?”   
  
There was no real answer to that. There was so much he wanted, none of which he could have. There was nothing he wanted more than for her to want him, or to need him, or to just accept that he was there. She wouldn’t give him that, not now, she yearned for strength and he was weak now.

“The procession is tomorrow morning. Will you not see your son before he is given to the Gods?” Never before had he felt so shy in her presence, he despised himself for that and he wondered if he couldn’t win her the only way he knew how.

Cersei seemed offended by his hand on her in that moment. Disdain stained her gaze and she could barely stand to look at him at all, instead she bit her lip and watched him struggle. When the cool metal of his right hand brushed against her neck, she shivered in disgust and pushed him away in untold fury. 

Determination rose in her and Jaime was certain he hadn’t seen it before. It startled him to see her reject him with such confidence, normally there was some poor excuse conjured or something to hurry away to. She was so much colder as if the warmth in her had died with her firstborn.

“Bring me your lady knight,” Cersei commanded.

It was the last thing he’d expected her to say. Jaime had thought she would cast him out or insult him, but he had not expected her to ask for something…for something he was so reluctant to give.  
  
“Cersei?” He thought he had succeeded in distracting her well enough from the existence of Tarth’s Maid but it seemed he was mistaken. Her eyes were half-dead as they bore into him and told him to do as she asked as quickly and as quietly as he could.

There was no stopping it. Brienne was going to have to fend for herself in the lion’s den. He could get her out when the time was right but there was no time, not yet, and setting himself against Cersei’s wrath for a _girl _he barely knew. He could only dream of having the nerve to do such a thing, he was reckless but only when it meant facing death; facing Cersei was something far worse.

It felt strange to be back inside the Red Keep’s walls. It felt strange to have guards who didn’t want him dead on sight. It felt strange to be Jaime Lannister again.

Jaime didn’t _want _to let Brienne anywhere near Cersei, but there wasn’t much he could do to stop it. They were in her castle, in her city, surrounded her guards. She had no reason to _hate _the girl and so he had nothing but hope that Cersei would find her peculiarities charming and keep her for a pet of sorts. Anything would do. It might break the poor girl’s spirit, but it would keep her breathing until he could find a way to break her out. Sansa Stark was out there somewhere, wandering the Seven Kingdoms and the first man loyal to the throne to set eyes on her would strike her dead.

“Ser Jaime?” Brienne answered with a start. When she drew open her chamber door, there was likely nobody she less expected to see. “Is everything alright?”   
  
“The Queen requests your presence in her chambers.” The words scratched against his throat as they rose. “Come with me.”

Brienne appeared almost frightened in her footsteps as she followed after him. The nervousness barely showed through the façade behind which she hid but he could feel it in the short strides and the way she straightened out her shoulders every few steps.

Guards shuffled their feet as they spotted the Queen’s brother._There’s no point trying to impress me, _Jaime thought. _You have two hands, in my eyes, you are a wonder to behold simply for that. _

Outside of Cersei’s private chambers, Jaime felt slighted in a manner of speaking. All their lives, he had been the one person that Cersei ever _really _desired the company of and now he had been resigned to the lowly role of squire.

She didn’t really want anything to do with Brienne, he was certain of it. Her only objective was to try and make him jealous somehow, as if she _ever _had to try. Refusing him was plenty enough to make him want her. He was accustomed to her rejecting him, and he was accustomed to ending up inside of her no matter. _This is different, _Jaime thought. S_he is repulsed by me now. This is my punishment for losing the hand she saw as hers._

“Ser Jaime,” Brienne prompted, drawing him from his thoughts.  
  
Stood sentinel at Cersei’s door was Ser Ilyn Payne and Jaime found himself wondering if his silence what had drawn the Queen’s attention to the vile lout. Brienne could beat him in single combat and that gave Jaime a sense of relief. 

“I’ll see you at supper,” Jaime said with an inferring tone. Ilyn may be without a tongue, but his ears are of fine function and he has his writing hand at least.   
  
_Into the lion’s den she goes. _It was worse than the bear pit. Jaime didn’t have the confidence borne of exhaustion and blood loss. Moreso, there was far more at stake than their lives. He retired to his quarters to worry in peace, far from the echoes of whatever horrors he had avoided.


	4. Chapter 4

It was curiosity that drove Cersei to request the strange woman’s presence. In another time, it might have been jealousy or that infuriating foe called lust. Overshadowed by grief however, the most that she could conjure was curiosity.

She found herself wondering what fuelled the beastly woman. She had thought it was love for her brother but her eyes told a different story altogether. Cersei found sport in dissecting strangers; their weaknesses and strengths, what drives them and what makes them sick, their loves and their hates.   
  
The knock at her door jolted through her.

“Come in,” she called, turning her head towards the door where Brienne of Tarth stepped inside with a charming shyness. “Lady Brienne.”

“Your Grace,” she answered breathily. _Frightened of her own noise,_Cersei thought and where there ought to have been pity, there was only a sense of ambition. “Your brother said you asked me to come.”

Blood rose in her cheeks in a most fascinating manner. Cersei found herself wanting to embarrass her again and again if only to keep her pale skin aflush. Already she was thinking of what a fun toy the maid was going to make.

“Your generosity moved me. Such kindness for a Lannister now that your beloved Robb Stark is dead, such kindness is beyond my capabilities. 

Brienne’s jaw tightened. Her gaze steeled. “I bore no love for Robb Stark. My loyalty lies with his mother Being unkind to you will not return her or her son from the grave.”

In her own private chambers, the Queen felt ill at ease in the company of such a fascinating stranger. In truth, a loyal sword was but a moment away, yet it wasn’t the fear of Brienne’s aged steel blade that concerned her.

Her loyalty was quite remarkable even to witness. Cersei found herself yearning to have it for her own. It was unattainable in every sense yet that made her want it all the more. Cersei would tear the world apart trying to get her hands on the things she couldn’t have, and this extraordinary creature could be the end of her.

_The beast loves Jaime, _she told herself and it made the idea all the more appealing.

“Would you come to the ceremony with me tomorrow, Lady Brienne? I yearn for the gentle company of a woman in my grief and the ladies at court are all vipers.”

There was a genuine fear that skated across Brienne’s brow and a reluctance that the Queen had not expected. Rising to stand, she crossed cautiously into the space of the great stature of Tarth’s heir and conjured all the sadness that she could in hopes of tempting her.

“Your Grace, will you not want to spend the day with your family?”

_How precious she seems to be, _Cersei thought. It was hard to believe that there was still such genuine good in a woman who’d seen so much evil. All that was left within the city walls was the façade of sweetness that kept Margaery Tyrell alive.

“My brother and my father and my son. Alas, a woman’s company would ease my heart. Lady Margaery is so terribly sad that I can’t bear to be around her for long, she only makes me want to weep.” It wasn’t a lie, in all honesty, the mere thought of the Tyrell woman made her eyes water. “Besides, you saved the life of my brother. Are we not now sisters of a sort?”

An expression graced Brienne’s face that Cersei found somewhat indescribable, as though she was battling between flattery and embarrassment of a harsher sort. Her lips began to curl shakily before stopping short of a smile. Her eyes were locked determinedly on the stones of the ground.

“I’d be pleased to accompany you, your Grace,” Brienne said. 

Cersei wondered what she could do to capture the interest of the lady knight at least. Stealing her loyalty or her trust would be a must greater undertaking but to hold her attention for a brief while would keep her in one place long enough to figure out the rest of it.

The Stark brat was out there now. Every man loyal to the crown was looking for her and soon enough, she’d be found, but for now, it was cause enough to draw Brienne away from King’s Landing.

“If you could come to my chambers after you’ve broken fast, Lady Brienne. Thank you for agreeing, I fear I would’ve struggled to get through the ordeal alone.”   
  
Nobody had formally told Brienne she ought to wear gowns rather than armour around the castle, but she had fallen into the habit obediently. It was hard to know where she found dresses big enough for her towering frame, but Cersei noted mentally that were the woman to stay, she would definitely find a better dressmaker to take up the challenge.

“I’ll see you in the morning then, your Grace.” 

The Queen was almost excited to see the looks on people’s faces when she walked the sept’s great stairs with the woman many called _kingslayer’s whore _at her side. _How they will all stare. _


End file.
